


Deep Thought

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, loopy Napoleon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which Illya finds out that a sedated Napoleon’s innermost thoughts are not at all what he expected.





	Deep Thought

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired partly by an amusing moment in my PMD game where I had named the main character, a human who had been turned into a Totodile, Napoleon, and had been asked by an NPC whether or not he could swim--the irony being that Napoleon, as a human, can’t (as far as “Off Broadway Affair” and other episodes show us), but Totodile, as a Water-type, can. A convo with ksturf inspired the rest.

The end of another mission didn’t always leave Napoleon and Illya unscathed; this time, it was Napoleon who had been in Medical, getting shrapnel from an explosion removed from various limbs due to having shielded Illya from the blast. Illya, naturally, stayed with him wherever he could, and was by Napoleon’s side, unmoving, as he lay in the recovery ward.

The doctors had warned Illya that Napoleon had been sedated to minimize the pain he would be feeling, and so Illya had prepared for Napoleon to be loopy upon awakening. And so, when Napoleon stirred at last and took around the ward and glanced at the vase of yellow flowers that had been left for him, Illya gently informed him as to where he was and what had happened.

Napoleon did recognize his partner, and Illya took that as a good sign as Napoleon continued to lay back in the bed, seemingly deep in thought.

“They will want you under observation for some more time, so you will not be able to escape just yet.”

“Yeah, s’ok, I ‘xpected that,” Napoleon slurred. “I’m just thinking ‘bout stuff…”

“Oh, yes?” Illya asked.

“Whatever this stuff they gave me… Gets me thinking… Deeeep stuff…”

Illya froze. This was something they had to address; if Napoleon gave out any sensitive information while in a state like this, then he would have to learn how to resist the sedative’s influence.

“What are you thinking about?” Illya asked.

“I was just thinking… What would happen if I angered a sorcerer and he turned me into a crocodile?” Napoleon slurred, sounding very serious. “I can’t swim that well… But crocodiles can… Would I suddenly get the instincts to swim? Or would I be a crocodile that couldn’t swim…?”

Illya gave him an incredulous stare, facepalmed for a moment, and then turned back to his partner.

“This is your deepest thought?” he asked.

“Well, one of them…” Napoleon said. “But think about it… s’important. If I turn into a crocodile, I gotta know if I can swim or not…”

“How about you just refrain from angering any sorcerers?” Illya said. “That should solve your problem.”

“How will I know that I’ve run into one?” Napoleon asked.

“…Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it,” Illya decided.

Napoleon nodded, and then kept thinking.

“If did get turned into a crocodile…”

“I would look after you,” Illya promised. “And I’d find a way to make you human again.”

Napoleon looked at him, looking suddenly overwhelmed.

“You’re s’good to me…”

“I am your partner. Of course I would.”

“And I’d do the same for you,” Napoleon vowed, gripping Illya’s hand with his own. “All for one and six for a dollar!”

“…I don’t think it goes _quite_ like that, Napoleon.”

“Oh. Well…” Napoleon sighed. “There’s other stuff, too. Sometimes I worry about what people will think if they find out…”

“…Find out what?” Illya asked, his eyes going wide.

“The things I put on my sandwiches,” Napoleon said. “Greater men have lost much over condiments!”

“…Name one,” Illya said, giving him another long stare.

“Ahh…” Napoleon trailed off.

“It’s alright,” Illya assured him, gently patting his hand. “Though I despise that ketchup and mustard you put, I will never abandon you over anything—let alone something as frivolous as condiments.”

“And I would never ‘bandon you either,” Napoleon vowed.

Illya smiled in spite of himself.

“So, what other deep thoughts do you have?”

“Ohhh,” Napoleon sighed, as though prepping himself. “Well, sometimes I think about what my career would have been like if it was different.”

“What sort of career had you thought about?” Illya asked. “I find it hard to picture you doing anything else.”

“I’d prob’ly have been a shoe salesman. Just imagine… me with my own li’l shoe store…” Napoleon slurred. “I’d call it Solo’s Soles. Get it? ‘Cause they’re shoes—soles of the shoes--”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Illya sighed. “Truly remarkable how you are still able to construct those puns even when sedated…”

Illya trailed off and chuckled in spite of himself as Napoleon continued to repeat “Sole-o” over and over again.

“But why shoes, Napoleon?” Illya asked.

“S’people can take to the road and travel,” Napoleon said. “It’s what I always dreamed about. If I wasn’t able to do it myself, I could’ve helped others do it.”

“…That is actually a very lovely thought,” Illya admitted.

“Yeah?”

“ _Da._ For all the flak I give you about your poetic way of speaking, you do come up with some gems,” the Russian admitted.

Napoleon blinked at him in surprise, and then grinned.

“Aww, Illya, you’re the best!”

“Not really; you likely won’t remember my saying it once you sober up,” Illya said, with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll ‘member,” Napoleon slurred, but still returning a smirk, too. “I always do. I ‘member last time I was in here when you were telling me ‘bout the time you tried to pretend to be a cat burglar as a boy in Kiev just before the war--”

Illya’s face went red.

“—And you fell out of the tree right onto your… What’s the word you used…? Oh yeah, coccyx!”

Illya stared at him for a good five minutes before he found his voice.

“You… remember everything?”

“Oh yeah,” Napoleon said. “But don’t worry. Your secrets’re safe with me. Scout’s honor.”

Illya just shook his head in amusement. After all, Napoleon had spilled out secrets to him, too—secrets that would also remain safe.

It was just a small example of the many things they did for each other—a perfect partnership all around.


End file.
